The Blood Raven
by MoonsCalling
Summary: She can fight in heels. She's better than Natasha, she's better than everyone. Everything about her is classified. Nobody knows who she is. And apparently, she's from a department that no one should know about. Who is The Blood Raven? Go to profile for outfits.
1. Prologue

Name: Unknown

Aliases: Unknown

Age: Mid twenties

Height: 6'5"

Weight: Unknown

Eyes: Pale blue

Hair: Black w. red

Build: Fit

Complexion: Fair

Race: White Hispanic

Nationality: Unknown

Markings: Unknown

Language: English

Occupation: Unknown

As the policeman stared down at the information paper — in which he had to type up by hand because the system was glitching uncontrollably — that was pinned to the information board, he felt a chilling feeling nipping at the back of his neck.

Turning around to heed the thing in head-on, like a man would, he glared right back into her haunting eyes. He found the color of them distasteful. They looked fake to him, unreal... unnatural. He knew that when he went home tonight, those eyes will haunt him in his sleep.

"I'm telling you, Tommy, I didn't do it." she said, voice stimulating spiders crawling underneath his skin. "I'm innocent."

Straightening his tie and wiping his sweat off on his pants, Tom slowly walked to her cell, refusing to break eye contact with her as he counted the times his boots made contact with the concrete floor; how many steps it would take to get away from her and those _eyes._

"You were found with over fourteen deadly unauthorized weapons in your possession." he stated clearly, soul set on not letting her know anything. "Guilty."

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit!

His voice cracked. She knew.

He was scared. And she _knew__._

Oh, but she knew with all of her blackened heart that she strikes fear into anyone that looks into her eyes.

His heart pounded loudly for all, for _her_ to hear, as he bounded and weaved his way out of the office to upchuck the remnants of a sandwich that earlier today she stared at so hard he swears she poisoned it with her eyes.

Inside, the other police officers laughed and giggled at him. He was too easy to scare.

"Even with the slightest spook, Tommy boy goes and yaks up his lunch." a woman officer chuckled before taking a sip of her coffee and locking eyes with the girl behind bars. "And, really, how could anyone with a brain be afraid of her?" she scoffed with accusation. "She's just a goth tramp who found daddies toys and went on a field trip."

The criminal flashed her carved canines, her teeth glaring in the low light. "I wouldn't bet on it, Judy." she said, and the cop briefly flicked her eyes to her name tag and back. Judy.

"Something tells me that you know what _really_ happened in that shack eight years ago."

The guard visibly tensed at her words.

The prisoner smirked devilishly. "Looks like someone's a coward, huh?" she cackled, and rushed forward, gripping the bars with her gloved hands. A snarl ripped from her throat, spreading fear in the employees in front and all around her.

Judy stomped out of the cell area and went straight to the bathroom to cry. Everyone else inside the room quickly disbanded.

Sitting back onto the small bed, she took the scratchy blanket in her hands. Calculating its length approximately, she shredded the blanket into fours, with the help of her strength and fingernails.

After tieing them each together, she put it around her neck. Now she had a lovely scratchy souvenir from her time in this craphole.

Now, onto business.

First, escape.

The prisoner walked to the window, hair lightly shifting with the cold breeze of the Minnesota night. Holding the bars, she tested them.

They were weaker than the front bars. A lot weaker. Perfect. Time to get out of this place.

She pulled, and pulled, and pulled. And soon enough, they snapped right off with a small _chink._

Smiling and running her tongue over her canines, she tugged off the cloth on her neck and dived out the window, landing in between bushes with ease.

Second, weapons.

Swaggering back into the building, she headed towards the back room where the evidence lockers were held. No one was there.

This was too easy.

After suiting herself up, weapons in its mindset place, where it belongs, she headed through the front door. As it shut behind her, a gun was cocked.

Turning around, she found the officer from earlier who was scared out of his wits by her. Even now, the gun in his hands was trembling uncontrollably.

Bringing a finger to her blackened lips, she began to walk towards him, and he only got worse.

"Don't come closer! I-I'll s-shoot you, I will!" his vocal chords betrayed him as the words spilt from his mouth.

Her sinister smile that held tricks showed, making Tom shiver. "Little boys shouldn't play with toys that aren't there's."

Snatching up the gun, the escapee threw it through the window that she had recently jumped through.

She caressed his face gently, causing him to hiss and shiver at her light touches. Her eyes never left his.

"I'm not going to hurt you." she leaned into his ear and whispered, breath tickling his lobe. "See you never, sweetheart."

In a blink, she was gone. Tom's ears could barely pick up the light clicking and clacking of her heels.

Her with the _eyes._


	2. Chapter One

**_*psst* i'm gonna do that asshole thing where this story will have short chapters, but ssshhh, sshh everything will get better bc i'll probs change that chiz l8r k_**

* * *

Head resting on her hand, the recent prison escapee clicked her nails on the polished metal desk of her boss's office.

"You really have to stop letting yourself get captured, agent." crossing her arms over her crisp black suit, Olivier McKitt scowled downwards at her most trusted and best, yet the most delinquent, deputy.

The girl chuckled, shifting her spot in the leather chair. "Eh, you know it's not my fault. The Minnesota police are _so_ uptight." she huffed, twiddling with the small items on the furniture.

"No, don't blame them for your ignorance." Olivier slammed her hands down on the desk with force. "_You_ should've hidden the them better. This is _your _fault, kid."

She sighed, letting her hands fall down onto her lap. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry, Olivier. To be honest, I got bored." that got her a sharp glare, which was returned with a shrug. "Everything was just repetition, repetition." that reminded her of Avatar, her favorite movie. James Cameron was truly the master of all films. "I needed something different, you know? Finally something exciting, or whatever."

McKitt glowered at the woman below her, desiring to clock her in the jaw. It was a recurring feeling that resurfaced every time she was in her presence. "Different? Exciting?" she ran her tongue over her teeth, obviously upset with the person in front of her. "Fine. You want to do something like that? Then I've got something you might be interested in."

Curiosity finally peaked, the darkly draped agent leaned forward in her chair, now actually paying close attention to what her boss had to say. Raising a sculpted brow, which took hours to finally master how to get the perfect shape, she silently told the towering blonde to continue.

"A job that requires your skills has opened upstate, concerning an discretely amatuer government by the name of S.H.I.E.L.D. Heard of them?"

She shook her head.

"Doesn't matter. Recently, an important artifact was stolen while one of their bases was compromised, and now, they are scrambling to get it back from the alien Norse God who stole it from them."

Raising a finger, she signaled for her boss to pause. "Wait, did you say 'Norse _God_'?" she scoffed skeptically.

Olivier let out a breath. "Believe it or not, yes, the Norse stuff is real." she placed her hands on her hips. "Anyways, the Trickster by the name of Loki stole a massive energy cube called the Tesseract. It's imperative that they retrieve it back from the God, because... well, you know, the whole 'taking over the world and enslave the human race' bit."

Running a hand through her hair, McKitt sat back down in her chair. "So, your mission is, whether or not you accept it, is go down there, and coax that bastard into giving it back. Nobody cares how you treat the God, just as long as you don't kill him. But no one said you can't bring him close to jumping off." she smirked evilly. "Now, go. I'll have a plane fly you there tomorrow night."

The girl nodded, leaving the room with a mocking two fingered salute. Sometimes, her boss was just so badass. But she could never admit to that. The two of them had a relationship that surpassed one of boss and employee. It was much cooler than that.

Heading through the front doors of the office building in which she worked, the corset loving woman quickly hailed her own private cab, as per usual, and leaned back in the seat, chatting idly with the cute chauffeur who already memorized the way to the agent's house. It was actually, and believably rare to obtain a nice house in New York with enough green to have a greenhouse. Which, illegally, she grew a little bit of her own green.

"Hey, you know what, can you quickly stop at the CVS down here? I'm, like, really in the mood for some candy." making the front driver chuckle lightly at her use of reference to Fez from That 70's Show. She really loved that character, with all of his flabouancy and sweets loving. Going inside, she quickly picked out her top five favorite sweets, sodas, and front counter craps, and went to checkout.

Pulling up to her front door with all of the trash from her little to nothing splurt at the store, the woman handed a decent tip to the driver, along with a slip of her own number hidden in between the bills and packed her trash into a bag. She headed inside, tossing the bag of crap into the trash and the remains into the fridge, and slipped out of her tight clothing — in which she loved with all of her heart, and wouldn't ever change her wardrobe given the choice — quickly stepping into a loose, large and comfortable men's t-shirt from one of her old one night stands from what couldn't of been but less than a week ago. It even still had the musk of a desperate man going to the bar.

She crawled into the large bed, sighing and stretching her limbs before crawling back up inside the sasquatch body shell in which she resorted to every night of sleep.

And as she closed her eyes, knowing of just what exactly would come when she did, she couldn't stop the everflowing shitstorm of her recurring nightmares. She secretly felt like the Wolverine.


	3. Chapter Two

It was a good thing that Olivier didn't send that plane in the morning. Because, God knows that she would miss it terribly. She has always had the worst of problems with her sleeping; her super body required over thirteen hours of completely _uninterrupted_ sleep. And if any unlucky soul was to foolishly shake her awake before she got however many hours she wanted, they were probably going to have their throats either punched in, eaten, or ripped out.

And, after those casually peaceful thirteen hours, the girl woke up to the glaringly and annoying red numbers on her bedside clock. Honestly, she had always thought that alarm clocks were the dumbest thing to ever be created, and for her to own one was just stupid.

Rubbing her forehead, she rolled over onto her side, picking up the piece of technology, and threw it against the wall. She smiled in satisfaction as it smashed to pieces.

Just then, a young man entered through her bedroom door. "Such a shame, you broke another one."

She snickered, and asked, "What do you want, Nico? And for fucks sake, how many god damn times have I told you that I will not hesitate to bring your ass down to the floor if you keep on pulling this shit." she ran her long nails through her hair, careful not to snag her own scalp with those sharp baby daggers.

Nico raised his hands in defense, not necessarily wanting to get screwed like a pulp. "I know, I know, I just got orders to check on you, just incase you were dead." he gave a lopsided smile. "Apparently not."

"You're damn right not. Now go away." shooing him out the door, she got prepared for her flight later that night.

After successfully fitting all over crazy lethal weapons into a backpack and a duffel bag, she quickly got changed.

"Record time, princess." Nico was leaning casually against the kitchen counters, looking mismatched as ever with his piercings and tattoos along with his million-dollar suit. "I was tempted to come in there and join you."

The girl raised an eyebrow at his words, tossing her bags onto the futon.

"New piercing, huh?" she said as she reached into the cupboard. "Seriously Nico, why there, when someone, I won't specify who, could rip it out?" she could just imagine an evil guy cackling as the chunks of Nico's nipple still hung from the bar that was previously in his chest.

He let out a short laugh. "Just you try, girlie." he said, face returning back to its usual stoic look.

She quickly spooned down the breakfast cereal, then tossed the bowl and spoon inside the sink. She stared him down, both of them refusing to break eye contact. Finally, Nico blinks, caving into the game just to get her over to him. And she complies, pulling on his red tie to bring their lips together, the cool brushes of metal grazing each of their lips as they kissed. Nico tightened his arm around her waist to pull her against him.

She pulled away, just dragging on the game in which they always played. They both wordlessly agreed long ago that teasing was fun to do to one another, and so they did.

"Let us be on our way, eh?" she smirked, quirking a brow.

The agent nodded, grabbing her bags and handing them to her, already knowing that she lets no one else handle them. He was lucky that she wasn't gnawing his head off by just touching the cases that they were in. But that was just the relationship they shared.

Pushing open the garage, the notorious girl tightly strapped the bags to the side of her favorite motorbike, and placed the black helmet onto her head.

"Race you there?" she winked to Nico as he stood in the driveway, watching her, and she zoomed off, leaving him to stand there by himself.

"A race it is, then."

The two of them whipped down the roads, swiveling and nimbly weaving between each lane and cars.

Nico finally caught up to her, he gave her a hand sign saying, "Winning!"

Mocking Charlie Sheen was the best thing to do.

When the private airport came into view, she leaned forward, pressing her agile body closer to her bike, and began to pick up more speed. No way he could win now.

Laughing loudly as she skidded to a halt in front of the terminal, she took off her dark helmet, and watched as the loser of this race drove up next to her.

He sighed, taking off his helmet. "Fine, you win. Congratulations."

She celebrates her victory by pumping her fist in the air. "Yeah-Heh Heh! Suck my nob, mate!" she sang loudly, the joy never leaving her voice.

"Because I know you so enjoy mine." Nico winks, sauntering over towards the entrance of the jet, the stairs no issue for his long legs. Smiling and grabbing her bags, she followed behind him, packing her things safely underneath her seat so she could feel it with her feet.

She sat down from across her "guard" of sorts, resting her head on her hand, eyeing him subtly. Her eyes traced his aquiline jaw line; his nose that had the crook that complimented the angle of his jaw and the quirk of his mouth when he smirks. The bright silver of his irises cutting sharper than points of glass when they found anyone who looked at him, were staring right back at her, admiring her own stupendous attributes.

His eyes raked up and down her body, and she knew this well. From her legs, to curved waist, to her large chest which was oh _so_ exposed in the tight corset, and finally to her face and her piercings, in which he loved. Two in her eyebrow, a ring in her nose, two rings in her lips, a trident piercing through the lobe of her ear, a set on the back of her neck, a pair of snakebites below her lips, and then one through her tongue. She had already told him of her plan to get her collarbones pierced soon.

Setting his eyes on her outlined jaw and cheekbones, which intimidated her enemies – to the point where they themselves would crap their pants – if she so desired. And the long scar that traced from the base of her straight nose to her eye.

Just seeing that scar sent chills down his spine, the memory of seeing her come back to the apartment after that brawl. She was bleeding in every place, the outside rain not making it any better. When he first saw her, his heart dropped. The only story that she would give up was one involving a lot of alcohol and a rogue lion.

They both spent the next hour staring each other down.

The captain came onto the speakers. "We will be landing soon, so prepare for departure. Have a nice and safe day, agents."


End file.
